


Austin

by EternallyEC



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Child Death, F/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 22:32:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7407748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EternallyEC/pseuds/EternallyEC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Clarke got scared, she ran. It was how she was, always had been. But what happens when she realizes that Bellamy never quit waiting?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Austin

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I lay claim only to one character and the words used to write the story. All recognized characters and trademarks belong to Jason Rothenberg and Kass Morgan. The music lyrics are from “Austin” performed by Blake Shelton. I am making absolutely no profit from this story.
> 
> I heard this song for the first time in years this morning and immediately thought of Bellarke. So I set out tonight to write a little bit of angst and some fluff.... and ended up with angst galore instead. Sorry?
> 
> Also, WARNING (major spoiler but I feel it's important to warn): contains mention (no graphic details) of the death of a child.

_She left without leavin' a number_  
_Said she needed to clear her mind_  
 _He figured she'd gone back to Austin_  
 _'Cause she talked about it all the time_  

Clarke Griffin was completely drunk off her ass.

Her problem had started out small, a glass of wine with dinner here and there. But the more time passed, the more frequent her drinking became. It made sense, really. The alcohol had become her band-aid, the one thing that could help numb the pain that had defied her assumption that it would fade and only seemed to increase with time.

She'd started out small, just drinking enough to get a light buzz going. She couldn't remember when that had changed, when she'd begun drinking enough to get tipsy because buzzed wasn't cutting it anymore. And then tonight... Tonight, she hadn't been able to stop the pain until she was completely drunk. Resting her forehead against the tile of the bathroom floor, the blonde tried to remember when things had gotten like this...

// _Nine Months Earlier//_

Stealing quietly out of the small house she'd called home for a little over three years, Clarke hurried to toss the last of her bags into the backseat. Glancing at her watch, she cursed at seeing the time. She had cut it too close and Bellamy would be getting home from work in just under an hour. And that was if he didn't get cut from work early again as had been happening more often that not lately. She'd meant to finish much earlier, decidedly not in the mood for a confrontation.

She climbed into the driver's seat of the small sedan and turned the key in the ignition. Taking a deep breath, she allowed herself a precious few seconds to glance at the house where she'd built so many memories. The good, the bad, the in between... They all mingled in her mind and her breath caught in her throat as she fought back tears, wondering if she was really making the right choice. But then she remembered the room where the door always stayed closed, the silence that had stretched between them ever since the first time they'd closed the door and never opened it again and she knew. She knew she had to leave.

Leaving like this made her feel like a coward, she told herself that was all that was making her second guess herself. Too much had passed between her and Bellamy Blake now and nothing was fixable, not anymore. That was what she told herself as she tore her eyes away from the house and put the car in reverse, the gravel crunching beneath her tires as she slowly turned around and put the car into drive.

She never even looked back.

  
_It was almost a year before she called him up_  
 _Three rings and an answering machine is what she got_  

“I'm sorry,” Clarke whimpered as the pain washed over her anew. “I'm so sorry, Bell.” The tears slid down her face, hot and furious, ruining whatever comfort the formerly cool bathroom tile had offered her overheated skin.

 Slowly drawing herself up, she reached for her cell phone. Sniffling when she saw that it was still halfway charged, she unlocked her screen with a double tap and a swipe of her finger. Going to her contacts, she scrolled to the B's and there he was.

 She felt the pain recede as she gazed at the photo. He had his trademark smirk on his face as he held out his wine glass towards her for the photo op, his eyes playfully mischievous. Bell had always hated having his photo taken but Clarke was an artist who dabbled in photography on the side and he never stopped her from practicing on him. This photo had always been one of her favorites, capturing the boyish charm she loved so well.

 Inhaling shakily, she felt the pain rush over her again and she clutched at her chest as her sobs neared hysterical. Without a thought as to what she was doing or if she should be doing it, she found herself punching the call button and bringing the phone to her ear. She knew from Raven that he'd gotten a new cell phone number a month or two ago and so now all she had left was the number for their old home phone.

She prayed he hadn't disconnected it, a prayer that was answered when the phone began to ring. After the longest six rings of Clarke Griffin's life, she heard an answering machine click on and then her heart seemed to collapse in on itself as she heard his voice for the first time in months.

_If you're callin' 'bout the car I sold it_  
_If this is Tuesday night I'm bowling_  
 _If you've got somethin' to sell, you're wastin' your time, I'm not buyin'_  
 _If it's anybody else, wait for the tone,_  
 _You know what to do_  
 _And P.S. if this is Austin, I still love you_

 “You've reached Bellamy Blake. If you're calling about the car, it's been sold. If you're trying to sell something, you might as well hang up and call someone else because I'm not buying. Anybody else, wait for the tone. You know what to do.” There was a brief pause and the sound of his throat clearing and Clarke squeezed her eyes shut at the old familiarity of that sound. “And if this is you, Princess... I'm still waiting.”   
  
_The telephone fell to the counter_  
 _She heard but she couldn't believe_  
 _What kind of man would hang on that long_  
 _What kind of love that must be_

Clarke froze in shock, her mind racing. Had she really heard those words or was she imagining it? No, it had been nine months since she'd packed her things and left in the middle of the night without a word to anyone. She still couldn't believe that Raven had forgiven her; for Bellamy to have _that_ on his answering machine was just... unbelievable. But it was also purely Bellamy, the king of using actions to speak for him because words just didn't come easily for him.

The clattering of her phone landing on the tile after slipping from her limp grasp suddenly jerked her out of her stupor and she lunged for it, quickly bringing it to her ear again and clumsily going through the options to delete her unintended message before ending the call. 

What was she going to do?

_  
She waited three days_

Clarke Griffin was slowly getting stronger.

It had been three days since she'd heard Bellamy's message on his answering machine and she had not had a sip of alcohol. She'd even quietly asked Raven if she could join her for an AA meeting sometime and she hadn't missed the relieved look in her friend's eyes when she'd quickly agreed. It seemed that her problem hadn't been as hidden as she had believed.

The pain hadn't lessened any; just the opposite in fact. Hearing Bell's voice again had served to only feed the demons warring within her, but remembering the way his voice had sounded when he had said those words, so wistfully hopeful and completely directed at her also helped her stave off the urge to have just one more drink. She had also made a few decisions with Raven's help.

// _The Night Before//_

“Are you sure about this, Clarke?” Raven asked, dead serious as she studied her former roommate turned best friend. “So much happened between you two in that house...” Her voice trailed off and she winced a little as she belatedly realized what she'd said. “I mean...”

Clarke offered her a pained smile and a wave of her hand. “It's okay,” she replied softly, reaching out to put her hand over Raven's and squeezing it gently. “It's almost been two years. It's time that I talked about it,” she said softly, her eyes glazing over as her mind went back to the past. Using Raven's hand as her anchor, she felt safe enough to finally break her silence for the first time since the worst night of her life.

“It wasn't raining when we left the house. Elliott was asleep by the time we got out of the driveway.” She laughed softly at the memory of glancing in the rear view mirror and seeing her rambunctious curly dark haired little boy fast asleep in his car seat, his mouth open as he snored softly while his favorite toy dinosaur dangled from his hand.

“We made it to Bell's work site fine. We had a little picnic lunch and Elliot was all over the place playing with his daddy.” She smiled gently at the happy memory and Raven slowly turned her hand over to lace her fingers through Clarke's, squeezing gently as if to urge her to continue while wishing she could freeze her friend's memories right at that moment forever, go back and change the past for all of them.

She didn't move to wipe away the tears that had begun to run down her cheeks as she listened intently, afraid to break the spell. Clarke had never spoken of Elliott's death to anyone but the police, not even Bellamy had heard her account, and she knew that her friend needed this.

“Then Bellamy had to go back to work. He picked Elliott up and ruffled those black curls he'd passed on to him and gave him a tight hug before telling him that he loved him, he'd see him soon and to be good for Mommy.” Clarke's voice cracked and her eyes began to well up. Then Bell handed him to me and we had a group hug while he kissed me goodbye.” Swiping at her tears angrily with her free hand, Clarke's words tumbled out faster as she continued, desperate to get the story out before she could lose her nerve.

“We said goodbye and I buckled Ell into his car seat and we took off. I had one of his favorite CDs playing and it had started to rain. I didn't think anything of it at first but then all of a sudden it was coming so hard and fast that I couldn't see through it anymore and I was trying so hard to figure out what to do. There was no shoulder and Ell was crying in the backseat, telling me he was scared...”

Clarke's breathing hitched and she began to sob, clutching tightly at Raven's hand. “I tried to comfort him. I told him it was going to be okay, that Mommy was going to take care of him no matter what...” She shook her head as her voice cracked and her tears started flowing faster. “We were almost home... We were passing that curve about two minutes before getting to the house. And I had just told Ell, “It's okay baby, Mommy isn't going to let anything happen to you...”

Raven felt sick to her stomach. She had no idea how to help her friend, none at all. Letting instinct guide her, she stood up and carefully making sure to keep a tight hold of Clarke's hand, moved over to sit beside her in the booth. Wrapping her free arm around the blonde, she hugged her tightly and squeezed her hand gently to let her know she was there.

“That was when I lost control,” she whispered, leaning her head on Raven's shoulder and gratefully accepting the comfort her friend was offering. “I hydroplaned and everything was happening in slow motion yet all at once, so fast that all I remember is looking back when Elliott started screaming and seeing his little Triceratops fall from his hand just before the impact knocked me out.” Her words were spilling out in a torrid flood now, desperate to finish and stop re-living the awful memories.  
  
“I woke up in the hospital,” she whispered with a sob she muffled by turning her face into Raven's red jacket. “Bellamy was there and all I had to do was look at him to know that our baby was gone... and that he blamed me.”

“Did he say that?” Raven couldn't help asking in shock. She had a hard time believing that the man she considered a brother could be that cruel and she couldn't reconcile such an angry man with the broken one she'd seen almost every day for the last two years.

“No, but it was in his eyes,” she whispered, her own shimmering with unshed tears that couldn't hide the clear guilt lurking within their blue depths. “He told me he didn't over and over again, but I knew better. Every time I looked at him, I could see the anger he was trying to hide,” she whispered, burying her face in her hands as she began to sob frantically.

“Shhh, let it out,” Raven soothed, gently running her hand over Clarke's back as she tried to make sense of what her friend was telling her. She really didn't believe that Bellamy blamed her. She was no psychiatrist but if she had to guess she would bet the house that Clarke was projecting her own feelings onto Bellamy, seeing her own anger and blame reflected back at her from the eyes of the man who reminded her so much of their lost child.

“Clarke, can I run something past you?” she asked gently after a moment of careful consideration. The blonde nodded and Raven took a deep breath. “Is it possible that you were so guilty and angry at yourself that you convinced yourself Bell was?” she asked softly.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Clarke resisted the urge to reflexively deny Raven's question outright. She tried to think back and look at the memories through new, rational eyes, feeling her eyes begin to fill with tears as she realized there was every possibility that her friend was correct. “Oh my god,” she groaned, letting her head fall forward into her hands again. “I've been such an idiot and he is _still_ waiting for me. Why, when all I've done is hurt him and accuse him of things he would never do?”

“Because he loves you, Clarke,” Raven replied softly, unsure if she actually wanted an answer or was trying to work things out for herself. Either way, she figured hearing it would help somehow. Something had to change soon for the both of them and nobody knew it better than the one friend they shared, the one who saw both of their deep pain in ways nobody else ever could.

_And then she tried again_   
_She didn't know what she'd say,_   
_But she heard three rings and then_

 Clarke took a deep breath, Raven's words echoing through her mind and dancing around Bellamy's until she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was doing the right thing. She woke her phone up and pulled up her call logs, looking at Bellamy's name and marveling at how even his name sent a small wave of comfort flowing through her stronger than any the alcohol ever had. Hitting the button to call, she put the phone up to her ear and waited.

She didn't have as long to wait this time—the phone rang once, twice, three times and then the answering machine clicked on. It was a different message this time and Clarke's breath caught in her throat as she wondered if she'd waited too long. What if the ending was different? Holding back her tears, she closed her eyes and let the sound of Bellamy's voice soothe her demons.  
  
_If it's Friday night I'm at the ballgame_  
 _And first thing Saturday, if it don't rain_  
 _I'm headed out to the lake_  
 _And I'll be gone, all weekend long_  
 _But I'll call you back when I get home_  
 _On Sunday afternoon_  
 _And P.S. If this is Austin, I still love you_  

“Hey, you've reached Bellamy Blake. If it's Friday night, I'm at a ballgame. First thing Saturday, I'm headed out to the lake with the boys and I won't be back until Sunday afternoon. Leave a message and I'll get back to you.” He paused and this time Clarke noticed that he seemed to time the pause just long enough for people to have hung up if they didn't want to leave a message—what a Bellamy thing to do, to try to hide this one weakness he couldn't help but display in a public manner. “And if this is you, Princess... I'm still waiting.”

Clarke couldn't stop the smile that broke across her face any more than she could stop the sun from rising in the east.

_Well, this time she left her number  
But not another word_

Prepared this time, Clarke rattled off her phone number before disconnecting. She'd spent a lot of time agonizing over what to leave on the voicemail before deciding that nothing would be best. Everything she needed to say really needed to be said in person but over the phone would suffice for the most important part. But something as impersonal as an answering machine simply wouldn't do.

Quickly pulling up her Facebook Messenger app, the blonde quickly opened Raven's chat head and typed in a quick message.

_It's done. Left my phone number and hung up. He changed his message but left the ending! :)_

Dropping the phone, she ran a hand roughly through her golden locks and cursed softly, though the smile never left her face. It was going to be a very long weekend.   
  
_Then she waited by the phone on Sunday evenin'_

The wait ended up not being _so_ bad after all, mostly because Raven had made it her personal mission to keep Clarke busy Saturday. They had a girl's day complete with shopping, mani-pedis and a chick flick marathon turned sleepover when Raven passed out on Clarke's couch. The next morning they'd gone out for brunch before saying their goodbyes, Clarke promising repeatedly to message or call Raven the moment she hung up with Bellamy.

And then she went home to wait.

She was so desperate not to miss the call that she kept putting her phone back on the charger when it hit fifty percent. She checked her volume obsessively to make sure it wasn't on silent. She tried everything she could to pass the time but nothing was working and she felt like her skin was crawling as she prayed for time to fly and for her phone to ring.

And yet, when it finally did? She froze, completely freaked out for the span of two rings before snapping into action. Grabbing the phone, she barely noticed how gorgeous Bellamy was covering her phone screen before jabbing the accept call button and dragging it to answer. Taking a deep breath, she lost all of what she'd planned to say and found herself improvising a message like his own instead.

  
_And this is what he heard_  
  
_If you're callin' 'bout my heart_  
 _It's still yours_  
 _I should've listened to it a little more_  
 _Then it wouldn't have taken me so long to know where I belong_  
 _And by the way, boy, this is no machine you're talkin' to_  
 _Can't you tell, this is Austin, and I still love you_  
  
_I still love you_  

Even playing the message for the hundredth time, Bellamy couldn't dare bring himself to hope. He'd know that voice and that phone number _anywhere_ , but he was too afraid of further disappointment and heartache to even think about it. Instead he had played the single message over and over again for at least twenty minutes, listening to the musical cadence of her voice and just trying to breathe.

He'd drank two beers before he finally felt strong enough to make the call. Grabbing the cordless handset, he took the phone into the bedroom and sat down on the bed, the same bed he'd once spent every night sleeping with his wife on, as well as certain _other_ activities... But that had been before Ell, before Bellamy's entire world had come crashing down around him.

Bellamy knew good and well that Clarke believed he blamed her for what had happened to their little boy. At first he'd tried to reassure her that he didn't and then one day he'd seen a flash of panic in her watery blue eyes and he'd suddenly understood. Clarke blamed herself so completely for Elliott's death that she couldn't face it. She needed for someone else to blame her to help lessen the weight that would crush her if she bore it alone.

He'd spoken to his psychiatrist about it after realizing it, the same one he'd start seeing after Elliott's death, and he'd told Bellamy that his unprofessional advice would be to let Clarke be and just try to show her that he didn't blame her. “Gradually, the guilt and self blame will lessen enough that she'll be able to face the truth, Bellamy. If you can hang on for that day, I feel confident that things will get better.”

Yeah, he'd definitely been wrong on that account. Six months after hearing those words, he had come home from work to find Clarke's car missing and all of her things gone. She'd left everything that they'd both bought or been gifted. She hadn't even taken Elliott's baby book or photo albums and that was when Bellamy had realized there was still the tiniest bit of hope for them. When Clarke got scared, she ran. It was how she was, always had been.

But what he knew about her was that when she ran, she took everything. She never would have left Elliott's baby book or photo albums if she didn't plan on coming back eventually. He doubted it was a conscious decision on her part but it was a lifeline for him; proof that she hadn't completely given up on him or their relationship.

Shaking himself from his thoughts about the past, Bellamy Blake took a deep, shuddering breath and quickly typed in the number he knew by heart. His finger hesitated over the button that would send the call through for a long moment before he pushed it and brought the phone to his ear.

The phone had rung at least four times before he heard a click and then her voice filled his ear.

“If you're calling about my heart, it's still yours. I should've listened to it a little more and then maybe it wouldn't have taken me so long to realize where I belong.” She paused and he could swear he heard a little sob, raising his suspicions. “And by the way, Rebel Leader? This isn't an answering machine,” she said softly, and he inhaled sharply as he was suddenly accosted by a vision of her sitting with her phone pressed to her ear, probably gripping the damn thing so tightly that her fingers were turning white as she spoke.

“Princess here,” she continued with a small nervous laugh and he couldn't help but smirk through his shock as he remembered how much she'd _hated_ that damn nickname—which was exactly why he'd kept calling her by it, of course. “And I still love you,” she sniffled, and suddenly Bellamy's world had color again. “I know that you have every reason in the world to hate me, Bellamy--” How was it that just her saying his name could still have such a drastic effect on him?

“Clarke, I could never hate you,” he said hoarsely, suddenly realizing he was crying and had no idea when he'd started. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “I love you,” he amended in a choked voice.

“We have a lot to talk about,” she replied softly. “But... Can I come home?” she asked, her voice cracking as she began to cry, suddenly sounding desperately homesick. Bellamy wanted nothing more than to be able to embrace her again and he wiped angrily at the tears on his face.

“Anytime you want, Princess,” he answered, his voice thick with tears. He had no idea how to process that what he'd spent the last nine months hoping for was finally happening. “Where are you?”

“I'm in Austin,” she revealed and he shook his head. He'd suspected as much—she had been born there and had spent a lot of the time before leaving talking about how much she missed it there. “I need to do some things here but for now, I can spare a week before anything I have to be in town for happens. If I leave right now, I can be there within three hours.”

Bellamy stopped himself from asking her if she was sure if she was okay to drive. He was just worried about her emotiona state coupled with driving but he realized that it would come off as being distrustful of her driving and could potentially push her away again. And he wasn't prepared to risk that, not when she'd _just_ let him back in again. “I'll see you then,” he said softly.

On her end of the line, Clarke smiled as she recognized the step he'd just taken. While appreciating it, she didn't want them to start off by setting a bad precedent. She had her issues to work through but she didn't want Bell to feel afraid of checking on her welfare or treating her like a porcelain doll. She needed to be tough now and for that to work she had to have someone by her side who would remind her of how strong she was while not being afraid to call her on her weaknesses. “And yes, I promise that I'm okay to drive... or I will be before I get in the car,” she amended with a warm laugh.

And just like that, Bellamy and Clarke realized there was still so much hope in the cards for them. Their fight was not over by any means, but at that moment they both let themselves begin to hope again. And sometimes, hope is the most powerful form of healing.

~~FIN

 


End file.
